𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 | 𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕖

chapter twelve: these boots are made for walkin'

Baked beans was a common delicacy for Richie's daily life.

For Eddie, it sure as hell wasn't.

"How you like your beans, Eddie?" Mike said, knowing very well by the expression on Eddie's face that he wasn't enjoying it.

"They're- uh they're lovely." Eddie pushed the beans around in his plate with his fork.

"This is the best meal I've had in months." Patty, another girl, smiled, eating her meal happily.

"Same here, babe." Greta threw her arm around Patty's shoulders, using her other hand to eat her baked beans which were nearly gone.

Eddie suddenly felt really bad. The people around him, he'd only known for one day and he assumed they were happy, healthy, and well-fed. Perhaps not, it seemed. He began to eat his beans with a little more gratitude.

Richie regularly ate baked beans due to the convenience. They were always in his cabinets at home and he'd grown to like them.

Eddie looked his eyes with Richie and smiled softly as if to say, 'I'm really glad you picked me for your absurd adventure.'

★

"How about some Mary-Jane?" Greta rolled a blunt with ease, as if she'd done it a hundred times (she did).

Richie quickly looked at Eddie's face.

They were all sat around the fire, telling stories and getting to know each other.

"Greta, I don't think these newbies are cool with that." Stan sassily stated. "They've probably never even seen weed before."

"Oh, fuck off, Stan! I wanna give these fellas a chance." She was laughing, still high from her last smoke. "So who wants the first hit?"

Patty raised her hand, "I'm your girlfriend, I get the first hit!"

"Right you are, baby." Greta cranked up the volume on their tiny radio, which played 'These Boots Are Made For Walkin''. The music was staticky, but still added to the dark atmosphere lit by the amber fire.

Greta lit the blunt with a match and handed it to her short girlfriend. "Take it easy, tiger." Greta laughed, seeing the girl inhale the smoke deeply.

Patty removed the blunt from her lips, blowing the smoke out harshly (and sexily, Greta would say). "Can you do any better?" Patty teased.

Greta took the blunt from Patty, "I'm no scaredy-cat." All Richie and Eddie could do was watch on.

Richie hoped the blunt would get passed to him.

Eddie hoped Richie would get the blunt passed to him. You know, just to see what would happen.

The paper-wrapped marijuana was passed from person to person, making its way to Mike. "Okay, only one hit." He succumbed, inhaling the drug with ease.

'Well, shit' Richie thought to himself. He'd never smoked weed in his life, and here he was, about to get high as fuck in front of Eddie. The blunt was placed in Richie's long fingers and he pulled it up to his lips. He made sure that Eddie was watching when he took a chance, deeply inhaling the smoke. Furiously, he held back a cough and a choke successfully, making the hippies grin with intrigue.

"You're a professional." Greta concluded. "Gimme that." She grabbed the blunt back from Richie, aware of the inhaler that Eddie kept carrying around. She knew that Eddie wasn't the type of person to smoke weed.

Eddie was still staring even after the smoke that exited Richie's lungs was completely gone from the air.

Richie caught him staring, "take a picture, it'll last longer."

★

After everyone snuck off to some nearby showers, they all settled into their small tents with glee.

Eddie was just wondering where Richie was.

He remembered seeing him before he left for his shower, but he was nowhere to be seen and Eddie was growing very worried.

If Eddie could describe Richie in two words it would be: strawberry milkshake.

Richie's rough exterior, when overlooked, became somewhat pretentious and pathetic. It was obvious that he just wanted to look cool and rebellious, but that's not what he was! He was a charming and soft sweetheart.

Looking back on the strawberry milkshake the two boys had shared, it was obvious to Eddie that they were never platonic. They were never really 'friends'. They were something more, but Eddie wasn't sure what to call that.

That strawberry milkshake was shared so nicely and it was quite obviously the best milkshake that Eddie had ever had.

The milkshake was so cold, but in the end, all Eddie had to do to warm up was to think about when Richie wiped some of the drink from the corner of his lips. Richie's touch was cool too.

The milkshake was gone in the blink of an eye when a hateful man kicked the teens out of the diner.

And now the strawberry milkshake was missing again.

Eddie was out of his tent in a flash, already feeling his hands turn clammy and cold. He wasn't holding the milkshake, was he? Why were his hands like ice? All the blood rushed to his head.

"Richie!" Eddie called into the night.

The others just assumed that Eddie was calling Richie over from a tree or something.

"Richie!" He said slightly quieter.

Nobody likes melted ice cream.

"Oh, God, Rich." He sighed, walking to a tall tree. He was exhausting himself worrying about Richie's whereabouts, but he knew something was definitely up.

"Looking for your boyfriend?" A deep voice sounded from next to Eddie as a hand covered his mouth. "I can help look, you know. See, I really couldn't leave without the full package." It was Patrick Hockstetter.

The tall teen pulled out Henry's pocketknife and smirked.

Eddie's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fainted, not being able to calm his breaths enough to breathe through his nose.

"It's always the little ones." The bully laughed maniacally. He picked Eddie up and glanced back at the campsite. "Fuckin' homos." He muttered.

The rest of the campsite was oblivious to what was happening and they just slept and had lovely dreams.

And Eddie was living a nightmare.